General Vex’s sword sliced through the air, a signal rather than an attack. Behind her, the camp erupted into motion. Soldiers poured from tents, their armor clanking in disciplined waves. Battlemages raised their staffs, violet energy crackling around their fists. Archers nocked arrows, strings creaking in unison.
"You made a mistake," Vex said, her voice carrying over the growing noise. "Whoever you are, whatever power you think you have, you stand against the Dark Lord’s will. That is a fatal error."
Adam didn’t move. He stood with his hands still in his pockets, watching the approaching tide with mild interest. Alex sighed deeply, the sound of a man who had seen this movie before and didn’t like the ending. Rebecca stepped forward.
A scythe materialized in her hands.
It was not a weapon so much as a concept given form. The blade curved like a crescent moon, impossibly sharp, black as absence of light. The handle stretched long, wrapped in what looked like shadows given texture. She held it casually, resting against her shoulder.
"Rebecca," Adam said, his tone encouraging, "show them what happens when you threaten our friends."
The first wave of soldiers reached her.
The scythe moved.
It wasn’t a swing. It was a transition. One moment soldiers were running forward, weapons raised. The next, they were simply... falling. Not cut. Not stabbed. Just ceasing to be alive. Their bodies hit the ground with heavy thuds, eyes still open, no wounds visible.
Rebecca walked through them like a farmer through wheat.
Behind her, the fallen soldiers twitched. Then they moved. Not rising in the way the living rise—they pushed themselves up with jerky, unnatural motions, their eyes now hollow, their skin pale. They turned toward their former comrades and began to walk.
"The hell?" a soldier shouted, watching his friend approach with empty eyes and reaching hands.
"Don’t let them touch you!" a battlemage screamed. "They’re death-taken!"
The second wave hesitated. That hesitation cost them.
Rebecca moved among them, her scythe a blur of absolute finality. Each swing dropped another soldier. Each drop added another servant to her growing army. The death minions moved without sound, without fear, without hesitation. They grabbed at living soldiers, and where they touched, flesh paled and eyes dimmed.
Adam watched from the sidelines, nodding appreciatively. "That’s nice. That’s really nice. The choreography, you know? She makes it look effortless."
A soldier broke from the chaos, charging directly at Adam with a sword raised. Adam glanced at him, then looked past him, uninterested.
The soldier got within three steps before an arrow whistled through the air, aimed directly at Adam’s temple.
It stopped an inch from his skin.
The arrow hung there, suspended in mid-air, its tip gleaming with poison. Adam turned his head slowly, following the trajectory back to its source. An archer stood on a small rise, fifty yards away, her bow still raised, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Adam looked at the arrow. He looked at the archer. He swatted his hand through the air as if brushing away a gnat.
The archer ceased to exist.
Not died. Not vanished. There was simply a moment where she was there, and then a moment where she was not. No flash. No sound. Just absence.
Adam turned back to the battlefield, brushing his hands together. "Rude. I was in the middle of complimenting Rebecca."
Alex watched the archer’s former position. "You could have just disabled her."
"Where’s the fun in that?" Adam asked. "Besides, she used poison. Poison arrows are just inconsiderate."
The battle raged. Rebecca’s scythe continued its grim harvest. The death minions now numbered in the hundreds, pushing back against the Dark Lord’s forces with relentless, silent pressure. Battlemages launched fire and lightning, but the minions didn’t burn, didn’t stop. They just kept walking, kept reaching.
Vex stood at the center of her command tent, watching the impossible unfold. Her officers shouted reports, but she barely heard them. Three strangers. Three people. And they were dismantling a quarter of the Dark Lord’s army.
"Deploy the mage corps!" she ordered. "All of them! Contain that woman!"
Dozens of battlemages gathered, forming a semicircle around Rebecca’s position. They chanted in unison, their staffs glowing bright. A massive net of violet energy formed above them, crackling with enough power to level a city block.
"Now!" the lead mage shouted.
The net descended.
Rebecca looked up. She watched the net fall toward her, saw the power in it, calculated its effect. Then she raised one hand, still holding the scythe in the other, and simply... touched it.
The net dissolved.
Not broke. Not deflected. Dissolved into motes of harmless light that drifted away on the night breeze.
The battlemages stared in horror.
Rebecca resumed her work.
Adam clapped slowly. "Beautiful. Ten out of ten. Really sticking the landing there."
A group of soldiers, smarter than the rest, broke away from the main battle and circled around toward Adam and Alex. They moved in formation, shields raised, spears leveled. Twenty soldiers, trained and disciplined, flanking the observers.
Alex noticed them first. "Adam. Company."
Adam glanced over. "Oh, look. They brought friends."
The soldiers charged.
Adam raised one finger. "Hold that thought."
He snapped.
The soldiers froze. Not in amber this time—just stopped, mid-stride, like someone had pressed pause on reality. They stood there, legs raised, shields forward, expressions locked in battle rage.
Adam walked over to the nearest one and peered at his face. "You know, up close, the armor is really well made. Good craftsmanship. Whoever equips your army takes pride in their work."
He turned back to Alex. "Should I let them go? I feel like I should let them go. They’re just following orders, right?"
"Adam," Alex said wearily.
"Right, right. Too much talking." Adam waved his hand. The twenty soldiers vanished the same way the archer had. Just gone.
"See?" Adam said. "Quick. Clean. Minimal mess. I’m learning."
Behind them, the battle continued to shift. Rebecca’s death minions now outnumbered the living soldiers she faced. The Dark Lord’s forces, trained to fight the living, had no answer for enemies who could not be killed, who felt no pain, who simply advanced and touched and turned.
Vex watched her army crumble. A quarter of the Dark Lord’s forces, reduced to chaos by one woman with a scythe and two men who stood watching like it was entertainment.
"Pull back!" she finally ordered, her voice raw. "Regroup at the secondary line! Now!"
Her officers relayed the order. The soldiers who could still run fled from Rebecca’s advance, leaving their fallen—now risen—behind. The death minions did not pursue. They simply stood, a silent army of the newly dead, waiting.
Rebecca lowered her scythe. It dissolved into shadow, fading from existence. She walked back toward Adam and Alex, her expression unchanged, as if she’d just completed a mild workout.
"Seventy-three," she said. "Plus the ones who turned. Call it two hundred fifty combatants neutralized."
Adam beamed. "That’s my girl. Efficient AND stylish."
Vex stood at a distance, surrounded by her remaining officers. Her face was pale, but her jaw was set. "Who are you?" she called out, her voice carrying across the suddenly quiet battlefield. "What are you?"
Adam turned to face her. "We told you. We’re just looking for our friend. Tall, blonde, very done with everyone’s nonsense. You haven’t seen her?"
Vex’s hand tightened on her sword. "You destroyed my soldiers. For that, there is no forgiveness. No negotiation. The Dark Lord will hear of this. He will come. And when he does, even your strange powers will not save you."
Adam considered this. "The Dark Lord. Right. Local tyrant, big magical presence, likes to kill prophecied children. We’ve met the type." He glanced at Alex. "Remember the Night Regalia guy?"
Alex nodded. "Vaguely."
"This one’s probably similar. Big speeches, dramatic entrances, very impressed with himself." Adam looked back at Vex. "Tell you what. You go tell your Dark Lord that we’re here. That we’re looking for our friend. And that if he has a problem with that, he can come find us himself. We’ll be in the city. Probably having breakfast. The inn near the main square looked nice."
Vex stared at him, unable to process the casual dismissal.
Adam turned away. "Come on, guys. Let’s go find Elizabeth and get some sleep. It’s been a long day."
He walked toward the city gates, hands back in his pockets. Alex followed, shaking his head. Rebecca paused, looking back at Vex one last time.
"Tell your lord," she said quietly, "that if he comes for the boy, he comes through us. And we are not as patient as we seem."
She turned and walked after the others, leaving General Vex standing among the ruins of her command, surrounded by the silent dead and the living soldiers who no longer knew what to believe.
A/N
I’m a bit tired so this Chapter might seem somehow, please have mercy and pardon me, I will make it up to tomorrow.